Autobiography of a cane
Here’s an oddity. A story written by Lillian Bernard, a child reader who contributed it to Children’s Corner in the Morning Bulletin, Rockhampton, Queensland, Australia, on 9 May 1930
I am a cane. The very best
friend to masters, and the very worst to schoolboys.
I am made from bamboo, and
am about three feet in length. Many other canes were made with me. At least we
were separated, one cane being sent to every master who in want of one. I was sent
to Mr. Brown, who had many bad boys and girls to teach.
I arrived on Friday, and
Mr. Brown, twisting me this way and that, exclaimed that I was the very cane he
wanted.
“He! He!” sniggered one
boy, “it’s a nice cane indeed. Indeed. Why, Mr. Brown won’t have that cane a
week. I say, mate, will you help me to split that cane?”
“Alright, I'll help you,” said
his friend. “Last time Mr. Brown received a new cane, he broke it on me the very
first day.”
It was Monday, and the two
boys came very early, intending to split me at both ends. Up the stairs they stole, and into the
school-room. The boys had now done the mischief, and I was put back in my
place.
School had started, and
work begun. The two boys, gloating over their fortune, soon passed the news
around. “That’s enough talk,” said Mr. Brown, “go on with your work.” There was
silence for a second. Then the noise continued. “On the floor for the cane, you
two boys.”
How calmly they went, for they
knew that I was damaged. But alas! In Mr Brown’s hurry he had seized his old
cane.
Whack, whack, whack,
whack and the very disappointed boys went
to their places.
The period of a year has now
passed and as I was repaired, am as good as ever. But how I am hated at this
school.
Picture credit:
Unknown
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